A Backwood Saviour
by ManDude DudeMan
Summary: Eli wasn't special. Wasn't normal. A West Virginia boy who was content to fade into the background. But sometimes Fate has other plans. What happens when a backwood boy is thrust into the position of a saviour? Fate has a sense of humor.
1. Chapter 1

He was unsure if it was the sunlight that filtered through the leaves, or the sounds of sheep that woke him from his unconscious state. Eli worked his way to his hands and knees, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to empty the contents of his already empty stomach. His head hurt, and he was aware that there was dried blood on his face, and a pool of semi-dry blood where his body had been laying.

"Wh..." his voice cracked as he looked up and around. He cleared his throat, and worked his way to his feet. "Where am I?" Last nights events raced through his mind. The party, hanging out with Christa, and getting angry over something trivial. He vaguely remembered drunkenly stumbling away into the night, and could almost still feel the rough hands that had snatched him into an alley. The blow to the side of his head had rendered anything else into blackness, though he recalled a chanting voice and a language that made no sense.

Eli looked around at this alien landscape. Trees, hills and the sound of water lapping against a shore somewhere out of sight. But nobody he could see. "Hello?" He called out, wincing at the raspiness in his voice. No voices called out. No clues as to who had assaulted him last night and left him here. The sheep were only a stone's throw away and didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was here, so it made sense that people must be nearby. Fighting the freight train pounding through his head, he began a slow climb up the hill to see the surrounding area and formulate a plan. He was a country boy at heart, so his survival instincts began to take over. The sun was a quarter of the way through the day's cycle. No wind, which was odd seeing as he could hear what sounded like the ocean's waves.

After what seemed like hours, but had to be no more than 20 minutes, Eli found himself standing at the very top of the hill. Looking around, his heart fell. Wilderness as far as he could see. The 'ocean' he was hearing was actually a large lake, and on the other side he could see cliff faces, waterfalls...and...what he saw made no sense. There were blocks of land suspended in mid air. From one of these masses of floating land, a tree grew. Stumbling backward, he fell against a tree, holding himself there for support, wondering for the first time if perhaps he had experienced a little brain trauma.

"Ok" he said, shaking his head for some clarity. He wasn't sure where to head, but heading toward the gravitational impossibility seemed as good an idea as any. There were cliffs there, and possibly caves where he'd find shelter. He wasn't sure where he was, but he was quite positive that he wasn't anywhere near home, and the idea of being out here in the open when darkness fell was reason enough for him to get moving.

He walked among the sheep, listening to their bleating, reaching out to touch one as he passed. It did not react, only wandered aimlessly as he walked by. He stopped to check out generic looking red and yellow flowers, random pumpkin patches, and the bamboo reeds that grew at the lakeside. Walking along the shore, he looked for signs of life. He saw wild boar, sheep, and at one point what looked like a wolf on the opposite shore that stood in the shade of the forest and watched him for a moment, sending a shiver of fear down his back. As much as he hurt, he picked up his pace and grabbed a sturdy looking stick that would serve as his walking stick, and defensive weapon. Maybe he could even find a way to sharpen it into a crude sword, should the wolf decide to bridge the distance. Or whoever was reponsible for the wound to his head and his abandonment in this strange land.

As he got closer to the cliff faces, he walked into the shadow of one of the floating islands. As it had appeared from a distance, there were in fact no supports. No unseen threads or beams. Defying every law of physics he'd known, he came to the realization that he wasn't on Earth. At least not anywhere he'd read or heard about it. Looking up, he was quite sure that he would have heard about this kind of thing. He shivered again in the shade. The sun had reached the horizon and was slowly slipping behind the trees. How cold did night get here? He looked to be about half a mile from the cliffs still, but the wolf remained etched in his mind, so he took up a slight jog, fighting back tears at the ache in his head and the fatigue that he felt.

The shadows grew longer. A wolf howled in the forest across the lake. Another wolf answered, alarmingly close. But he had arrived at the base of the cliffs, and-in his mind at least-safety. He walked along the base searching for a cave, or a crevice or any sign that people had been here. Small crevices existed, but nothing substantial. It was while investigating one of these graveled dips in the rock that he heard it. A moaning. Almost human. Edging his head around the corner, he held back a gasp. Not 20 feet away was a man. Of sorts. The tattered clothing and the discolored skin and the dead eyes were clear indications this man was no longer alive. He'd seen zombies in movies and comics, but there was no question in his mind that he was looking at one. Is that what had happened to the people while he was passed out? How long had he been out? He took a step back, his foot slipping in the gravel. The scraping sound was like a gunshot in the quiet of the night, and he glanced up quickly to see the zombie had heard as well. It groaned again and began walking in his direction. Trapped in the notch in the hill, there was nowhere that Eli could go. He was trapped.


	2. Chapter 2

Thinking quickly, he used his stick to knock some of the gravel down in front of him, about waist high. Stepping just a foot or so behind the low wall, he waited till the zombie got close to him. The moans were loud, the smell of the rotting flesh was turning his stomach. He could see the darkness that was the creatures eyes, and he waited til it was just within range and swung his walking stick with all his might. The zombie staggered back a couple steps, so Eli swung again. And again. And again, at one point closing his eyes and swinging wildly. He knew he was going to die.

_The sun was warm on his face. The sound of kids laughter and the feel of Christa's hands on his shoulders as she spun him in circles were gentle reminders that life was good. After a good 15 spins, about 10 more than the kids were receiving, he felt his brother place the stick into his hand. Trying to see out the bottom of the blindfold, he staggered around, feeling with the stick until he could feel the pinata, and heard the kids giggling. Swaying with the dizziness that still overtook him, he felt the pinata, lined his shot up and swung as hard as he could. Before he could connect, he felt someone kick the back of his knees, and he went tumbling, stick flying out into nothingness, onto the ground. Yanking the blindfold off, he saw Christa's laughing face, and the momentary anger was forgotten. He laughed as well, allowing his brother to help him up, and dizzily staggered to a chair._

Eventually, Eli was aware that his blunt weapon was no longer making eye contact. The zombie was falling to the ground. When it hit, the ground swallowed it up instantly, leaving behind of a few scraps of rotten flesh. Gasping at the effort it took to bring the beast down, he went to one knee, trying to comprehend what had just happened. A man. A dead man...that he was sure looking into the eyes that held no glimmer of life...had just attacked him. He had just pummeled the dead man to death. And now his body was gone. He had just watched him fall _into_ the earth. Not onto it. And there were floating islands. And wolves. And...

"Enough," he said aloud, rising to his feet. The first rule of survival was to keep your head straight. He took stock of what he had around him. His stick was laying on the ground, no worse for the wear. Little bit of gravel. Some grass seed. Another moan, and another noise the he'd never heard before brought him back to his senses. Looking around, he could see couple other zomies ambling through the trees, a skeletal figure with what looked like a bow or crossbow, and a spider that looked to be the size of a german shephard. He felt fear begin to paralyze him. Of all the things he'd have been willing to face, of all the monstrosities and horrors, spiders was not one of them. They were at a far enough distance that they hadn't noticed him yet, so he edged back into the crevice, and quietly began gathering the gravel at the opening. Knocking a little more down, but being sure not to bury himself in a landslide, Eli was able to secure himself into the cave, leaving a small area at head level so he could at least see outside. Sitting in the only remaining floor area left, he removed his shirt and used it as a pillow. The sound of monsters that he'd already seen, as well as those he hadn't yet haunted him as he tried to fall asleep. At one point he saw one of the giant spiders trying to jump into the hole he'd left, but it was far too large, and it lost interest, though he could hear it hadn't gone far. He started humming to himself an old John Denver song, sure that sleep would never find him tonight.

_He was being chased by spiders. Down a long straight hallway of glass. Lava poured down on the other side, cascading over the glass ceiling. Below him were diamonds and gold. It would have been beautiful if it weren't for the monsters above him, and the chanting voices somewhere out of sight. He could not understand what was being said, though occasionally he could pluck a word from the jumbled speech. Notch. Ender. Eli. Fate. It was the same language from the night in the alley. Still, he ran. The floor opened out from under him and he found himself falling, impossibly far. He landed in a pool, and came to the surface gasping for breath and flailing to keep afloat. Kicking his feet around, he found the bottom, and was surprise to find himself standing in only waist deep water. How had the fall not killed him? Where were the spiders that had been chasing him? His breath began to fall back to normal levels, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. As soon as he could see, his breath caught in his throat. Lining the edge of the pool he was in were dozens of figures, their arms crossed and their heads shrouded in darkness. One of them began to speak..._

Awaking with a jolt, Eli jumped to his feet, eager to hear what was about to be said. It took a second for his mind to adjust to the fact he was in his shelter, and the sun was beginning to rise outside. A noise he hadn't heard before caused him to look outside, only to see that the skeletons and zombies that were scattered randomly in the area had caught fire in the sun's rays. The pain on the nearest zombies face was almost enough to make him feel sorry for them, until he recalled the vicious attack he'd fought off the night before. As the last skeleton fell, the ground swallowing all but a few bones and an arrow, he began to dig himself out. Were these creatures only out at night? Had he wandered into this land on an unholy night where the dead could walk that occurred once a year? Resigning himself to the fact he'd probably watched too many horror movies, he began to formulate a plan. By nightfall, he hoped to have some weapons, a way to make a fire, and a secure shelter. Growing up in West Virginia, these were the kind of games he'd play with his friends in his small town. Only difference being, now Mom wasn't waiting at the edge of the woods with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This was no game.

He was lost in thought when he heard a hissing noise behind him. Turning around, he saw for the briefest moment a creature with no arms that had begun to swell. He turned and began to run, but it was too late. The last thing he knew, he'd been lifted off his feet in an explosion like none he'd ever felt, and he was heading head first into a cliff.


	3. Chapter 3

_"I don't think that's a good idea," Christa yelled across the lawn at him. Eli ignored her, as he watched Mark hope the fence and run into the shed. They'd just doused the pile of sticks and branches and dead trees with gasoline, and he'd gone to grab a lighter._

_ "Just sit over there and look pretty," Eli countered back, stepping back away from the stack of debris. He could see the fumes rising off the pile, and knew that the longer Mark waited, the larger the fireball would be. But it was far enough away from any property, that this could end up being just a little bit fun. "I promise, you're gonna be fine"_

_ "It's not me I'm worried about," Christa pouted. "It's the two dumb rednecks playing with fire I'm worried about._

_ "You say dumb redneck like it's a bad thing," he smiled, leaning over the banister to kiss her. She stubbornly refused at first, but gave into his charms. He started walking back toward the burnpile, shaking his butt as he walked. He could hear her laughing at his show, and he smiled as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mark on the other side of the fire. He'd apparently come back while they weren't looking, and had lit the fire. Realizing he was too close, Eli turned to run. The fumes ignited, blowing him off his feet._

Eli opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the sudden turn of events. He jumped quickly to his feet, his ears ringing, amazed that he hadn't broke his neck against the rocks. Looking around, he almost laughed out loud at a sheep struggling to get back to it's feet. He must have hit it broadside, knocking both of them to the ground. Remembering what had knocked him out in the first place, he spun around. Whatever the creature was had left a large crater in the earth where it had exploded. A little bit of smoke and a sulfer smell still hung in the air. He could hear nothing, expect the ringing left behind by the explosion, knowing he was lucky to be alive. Reminded once again that this land was not home, he kept his eyes peeled, paranoically glancing in ever direction as he set out walking.

It was one of these wild glances around that saved his life as he noticed the grass ahead of him drop off into nothingness. He inched forward and looked down, his head spinning. The drop had to be a minimum of 200 ft down into a cave system that looked like it continued on under the earth. From the bowels of this cave he could hear the familiar moans of the zombie monster and at least one spider. As if to prove his point, one of the armless green creatures wandered into view, staring up at him. Getting his first look at one of these creatures, Eli was almost taken in by the sad expression. The longer he stared at it, the more it seemed to draw him in. He found himself leaning over the edge, and a sudden sense of vertigo caused him to look away and catch himself. The creature wandered in a small circle, then jumped as if trying to get to him. He shivered. This thing creeped him out. Not only with what it was capable of, but because he had felt the beast drawing him in mentally through eye contact. He quickly stood, unwilling to waste any more time out here, and continued north. Pulling his shirt tighter around him, he noticed the weather was getting cooler. The clouds had started to gather, and within an hour the temperature had dropped close to freezing. With no food, and very little sleep combined with the stress his body had been through the last couple days, Eli knew his chances of survival were slim to none if he didn't find help or shelter soon.

Eli wasn't much of a praying man, but he began to whisper a prayer as he went along. Could God still hear him, even if he wasn't on Earthy anymore? For all he knew, this was hell and he was in serious trouble. He continued on, walking along the base of the cliff. Looking up, he could see sheep and wild boar on small outcroppings of rock. How they'd got there, he had no idea, but seeing them there did inspire him. Looking around he found some loose rock, and began to throw them as hard as he could at the nearest ledge where a pig stood. It took three throws in his weakened state, but one of them hit it's target. The pig, startled, jumped back and fell off of the ledge. It hit the ground with a thud, and disappeared into the earth. His heart dropped. How was he ever going to get meat things were swallowed up by the earth the moment they died. He drug his feet over to where the pig had died and saw something in the grass. Running over he was surprised to find 2 perfect pork chops on the ground. He resisted the urge to tear right into them then and there. The last thing he needed was to be sick and weak and vulnerable. But, he had food. Now he needed shelter. And fire. And tools. What would he have done if the pig hadn't disintegrated? He had no knife, no flint and steel, or anything of value and use at all! Exhausted by the roller coaster ride of emotions, he sat down. He had to clear his mind if he wanted to survive this.

Sitting still, he was aware of the cold that began to creep down his spine, but he fought that sensation away. Ok, he needed tools. With tools he could cut down wood instead of relying on the very few sticks he saw lying around. He needed a way to cut through rock. Probably with another rock. He hadn't seen any sign of civlization, minus the walking dead that wandered the dark areas and the night hours. Finding man made tools was unlikely, but he was confident that a country boy could survive. So, it was time to take action!

First thing was to scour the base of the cliff, looking for a loose rock that could be fashioned into a crude pickaxe. It took about an hour to find a sufficient rock, enough loose flexible twigs that would secure it, and a stick to work as a handle. He swung it a few times and was rewarded with a large chunk out of the mountainside. However, he was also aware that this would not work permanently. Eventually his pickaxe would break, but hopefully he'd be able to get a few more resources out of it yet.

Secondly he needed fire. The numbness in his hands was a vivid reminder of what night would bring. Checking the sun's position, he figured he had about three hours til nightfall. Of course, he probably had an hour and a half before hypothermia would begin to set in. If he couldn't get shelter by dark, hypothermia would probably be a better way to go. Resolving his will, Eli grabbed his pickaxe, found a naturally carved out area in the side of the hill, and began to dig deeper. Occasionally he would stop and check outside for one of the exploders, but he hadn't seen one since the morning hours. Since the act of hollowing out a shelter was keeping his body heat up, he took very few breaks even as he felt the strain of the effort draining what little bit of energy he had left.

When he noticed the shadows outside beginning to lengthen, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stepped out into the cold to gather loose wood. Using his pickaxe, he swung at the trees, and was able to knock a few blocks of wood away before the tool broke. He was so weak and tired, that there was only a momentary moment of surprise that the tree hadn't fallen, but instead floated, suspended in air. He gathered the wood as he heard the first moan in the distance. Rushing back to his shelter, he gathered the dirt into a wall, leaving enough space at the top to let the smoke out. Before the cold could seep back into his hands, he went to work starting the fire. It wasn't until some of the wood had become charcoal like, and far too much time had lapsed, that the fire was burning steadily. He used some of the extra stone from his excavation to fashion a makeshift furnace, and put both porkchops on to cook. Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes to savor the warmth and the aroma that was filling his cave-home. He was being lulled into such a sense of peace, that it took him a moment to realize the whisper he was hearing in his subconscious was actually the same chanting he'd heard in his dream and the alley he'd be assaulted in. He turned around, and there in the darkness was a man, his face shrouded in darkness, his arms crossed in front of him. The stress, the weakness, the hunger and the shock took over and he slipped into unconsciousness.


End file.
